Summoned By Bells-Big Big Train

Took a little time to find the past to walk the roads we used to know that lead us home. Houses in terraced rows that crowd around the railway yard, just sidings now, all overgrown. Above the high fields clouds are grey and gold; it’s as good a place as anywhere. War came and fires were seen from 30 miles away; a city burned, they wait in line, out in the high fields, summoned by bells, church; school; factory; home. Along the London Road across the park at Spinney Hill, sledging in the snow, we had our scrapes and our fights, it was part of the deal. Time moved quickly then things were changing all around, the world came to this small world, over the hillsides and rooftops, different stories were heard. We moved on found a new place, we remembered the days of our younger lives, we moved on. Long years pass we walk the roads we used to know, carried with the rain that falls. A stone’s throw from the line some of the old places survive, a golden thread in time, a stream running down from the hills into the heart of the high fields. So come on now, you know it’s alright, those were the days of our younger lives. Early evening, midweek in a market town, walking down those same old roads we know.